Sing of your Wonder, in a Voice Like Thunder
by Beanpot
Summary: Written for rare pairings ficathon - Teyla/Cam Mitchell. And nope, don't own them.


Written for the rare pairings ficathon and is Teyla/Cam Mitchell. Spoilers for Season 3/Season 10 of SG1 - Pegasus Project. And nope - don't own them.

**Sing of your wonder, in a voice like thunder**

Teyla entered the dining hall, tired from the trading mission she and Ronon had returned from, to find her team ensconced at their usual table, with a few of their guests from Earth scattered amongst them. After picking up a few items from the food line, she wove through the haphazard path of tables and chairs to join them. As she drew closer, one of the guests, a Col. Mitchell if her memory served her, stood up and pulled out the lone empty chair next to him. She nodded graciously as her apple rolled across her tray, making it difficult to balance it in one hand. He returned her nod with a quick grin before retaking his seat, all the while never stopping his side of the discussion.

"…and then the Ori ship got caught in the vortex and BAM! Two galaxies saved from crazy-ass evil guys."

"Am I to understand your mission was a success then?" Teyla asked before she bit into her apple. Of all the foods the Atlantians brought from their galaxy, she had a particular fondness for this fruit, especially with peanut butter.

Rodney answered her question with a rapid, "Of course it was! With the combined brain power of myself and the lovely Col. Carter, we were able to destroy not only a Wraith ship, but an Ori one as well, plus connect the Supergates so no more Ori ships can get to the Milky Way." His speech was punctuated by his fork stabbing at the air. Col. Carter, who was seated on Teyla's left, chuckled under her breath and continued to eat the bowl of cereal in front of her.

"Hey – I helped!" Col. Mitchell said his voice laced with something akin to the tone John used with Rodney.

"Threatening to murder me with a lemon is not helping, Mitchell. It is premeditated homicide and petty. And how did you know I was allergic to citrus anyways?" Rodney stopped mid-sentence to lean back in his chair when he noticed John was shaking with silent laughter. "It was you, wasn't it? What did I do to you? Kill an imaginary puppy? I swear the Air Force only manages to recruit 14 year-old boys."

As the conversation around her degraded into the snappy comebacks and witty retorts she was used to with her teammates, Teyla went back to munching on her apple. She turned at the sound of flesh hitting flesh to see Col. Carter holding her head in her hands. The colonel twisted her face to look at Teyla, and with an affectionate grin simply said, "Our boys will be boys."

A few hours later, Teyla was returning from the training room where she and Col. Carter had, as John would deem it, "wiped the floor with each other". She was feeling invigorated and yet felt the gentle tug of rest that always happened after a good fight. As she turned the corner to the hallway leading to her quarters, she heard the laughter from two men approaching. She smiled as she saw John with Col. Mitchell, both dressed in the loose clothes the Atlantians wore for training. They stopped when they saw her approaching, waiting for her to catch up.

As she drew closer, she noticed how Col. Mitchell's eyes swept up and down her form in appreciation. She raised an eyebrow and was surprised by the faint blush that slowly moved up his neck. She was used to men "checking her out", yet even when she caught them, they mostly just grinned and continued to stare. They never blushed and glanced away; his reaction was most interesting.

"Teyla, we're just coming to look for you. Mitchell here was bragging about his time with the Sodan warriors, and I told him I'm pretty sure you can kick his ass." John rocked back on his heels as he spoke, clearly proud of her abilities but more than willing to utilize them for his own benefit. "So you wanna?"

"Thank you, but I am tired from my work out with Colonel Carter. Some other time perhaps," she replied, slightly wincing from the sharp pain in her left thigh from where Col. Carter's banta stick had hit her.

"Ah, come on now, I've been waiting years to see Mitchell get creamed by a girl," John replied, his elbow meeting Col. Mitchell's side.

"Sheppard, I work with Carter and Vala. I get my ass…" Col. Mitchell paused and shot a look at Teyla she couldn't discern before continuing. "I get tossed on my rear by the ladies more than I care to recall. But only because my Gran'ma always said it was bad manners to hurt a lady."

John groaned and rolled his eyes and asked, "Gran'ma Mitchell is still alive and kicking? She will outlive us all."

"That's her plan. I swear she could take on a whole pile of Jaffa and still be knitting a sweater the whole time." Teyla watched as the colonel's whole face shone with happiness as he discussed his grandmother. "You're gonna miss out, Sheppard. The whole family is getting together for her 85th birthday in a few weeks and…" his voice trailed over for a moment, and he brought the palm of his hand rapidly to his forehead. "Son of a…I was in charge of the gift this year, and there is no way in hell I can get to it now."

John shrugged and placed a hand on Mitchell's shoulder to steer him down the hallway, then said, "You'll think of something. You could make her one of those clay handprints things." John then turned to Teyla and asked, "You sure you don't wanna come put this guy's butt into the floor?"

Teyla, for reasons she could not explain, smiled and replied, "Perhaps I will attend to the Colonel's rear-end some other time."

The jaws of both men gaped open as they stared at her. She was pleased to see the look of heat flash through Mitchell's eyes. It was fleeting and he probably didn't even know it had happened, but she had seen it and it satisfied something deep within her. She was not pleased to see how John's hand gripped a little tighter on the other man's shoulder as he pushed him a little harder down the hallway. As much as she loved her friends and teammates, they all seemed to have an issue with her having an interest in any male, much like her father had. To make her point, she allowed John to catch her looking at Mitchell's rear-end as they walked away.

After stretching out her muscles, a long shower, and some time filing reports on her most recent missions, Teyla discovered she had worked through the afternoon and most of the evening. She wandered down to the mess hall to grab some more apples and peanut butter. The mess was mainly deserted: a few people playing chess, a few laughing over the remains of their dinner, and in the back corner, she saw Col. Mitchell half-asleep in a chair. She did not wish to disturb him, but driven by whatever had caused her earlier statement, her feet made their way to him. He made no acknowledgement of her presence until she was standing next to him.

"May I join you?" she asked softly. He jerked out of his stupor, saw her and nodded. He went to stand up but a groan slipped past his lips as he made to move. "Do not trouble yourself, Colonel Mitchell. I am able to get my own chair this time."

He looked up at her and replied, "I know, but Gran'ma would tan my hide if she knew I left a lady standing."

"You have mentioned your grandmother a few times. Are you close?" She asked as she sat across from him. He winced again as he leaned back in his chair. Her eyes noticed how he held himself differently than earlier – he was clearly in pain. "Did the training not go well for you, Colonel?" She had her suspicions, but she wanted them confirmed before she did anything.

He let out a sharp single laugh as he rubbed the back of his neck and said, "Oh, I'd say the training went quite well for Ronon and Sheppard. I think I just got in the way too many times."

"I am sorry. It is unlike them," she said, while thinking to herself it was very like them. It was time they realized she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself in matters beyond the field.

"Oh, I don't blame them. I'd probably do the same thing if I were in their position." He stared right at her as he spoke, aware of just why he had been given a hard time, and this time it was she who blushed. The heat she had seen in his eyes earlier was back, and her body responded. He stared at her for a few more seconds, then slowly grinned before answering her earlier question. "Yeah, I'm close with Gran'ma. She's one in a million and one of my favorite people. The stories she'd tell us as she rocked on the porch, shell'n peas or sipping lemonade. You always knew she loved you and you never wanted to disappoint her. There was this one time…I'm sorry, I doubt you want to hear all this."

"Oh, but I do. It is rare among my people to have someone reach such an age. An elder, Charin, passed on within the year, and I miss her greatly. I would be honored to hear about your grandmother," Teyla said.

He grinned and began to tell an intricate tale about a pony, a bottle of whiskey and his granddaddy. That story led into another one, then to another one, each one funnier and more elaborate than the last. Teyla found she was laughing more than she had in a few years, and as she slapped her hand down on the table in response to a story about his Aunt Emma and something called a "Tower of Terror", she accidentally brushed his hand. He curled his fingers around her hand and rubbed his thumb across her knuckles. Her breath caught her throat, and she stared at their joined hands, both were rough from handling weapons, and yet his touch was gentle.

She yanked her hand away. They sat in silence.

"I apologize, Colonel Mitchell. Please continue with your story," she said softly.

"Cam. Call me Cam," he responded, still looking at the spot where her hand had been. He shifted his chair and swore softly under his breath. "Son of a…those boys sure love you, Teyla."

She laughed and said, "They do. They have interesting ways of showing it, but they do. I have lived with the people of your planet for a few years now, and yet none of them talk about the families they left behind. Perhaps in passing, but never with the amount of affection you have for yours. Once I knew it was because they never thought they'd see your planet again, but now?"

Cam shrugged at her comments, leaning back slightly in his chair. "Yeah, we Mitchells are a bit odd like that."

"I find I like you odd."

"Yeah?" He grinned hugely and folded his arms high across his chest. Teyla saw his face become creased with the lines of someone who spent more time smiling than not, and she felt a warmth spread through her, unlike anything she had felt in a rather long time. With the conviction that showed why she was the leader of her people, she stood up and indicated the door with her head.

"You mentioned that you needed a present for your grandmother. I believe I know of something that will suffice."

They walked down the hallway together, close enough to touch yet not. Occasionally they would glance at each other and grin; Teyla had the oddest feeling of being a young girl again. When they arrived at their destination, she waved her hand in front of the sensor and the door slid open with a soft whoosh. She entered her quarters, but when she turned around Cam was still in the hallway.

"Um, Teyla. Are we were I think we are?"

"We are in my quarters, yes."

"Gran'ma always said that a gentleman should never enter a lady's room without expressed permission," he said softly, the look on his face more serious than before. Teyla walked across the room to her door. She slipped her hand through his again and slowly pulled him in, directing him to the lone chair by the window. She could feel his eyes on her as she hunted for the item she had in mind; she couldn't help but add a little more sway to her hips as she did so. She thought she heard a soft gasp in response, but it could've been just her hopes. Finally, tucked in a drawer, she found what she was looking for and pulled it out.

Cam watched her approach, his head resting in his hands, elbows on his knees. His eyes were dark and followed her every motion. Growing up in the Pegasus Galaxy, she knew what it was like to be hunted, stalked, but the way Cam watched her made her blood warm and rush to her skin. It made her stand a little taller, move with a little more grace. His eyes drifted to her hands, then narrowed in curiosity. "What's this?" he asked.

"I believe your Grandmother would appreciate this as her gift." She handed him the cloak, thick and warm and dyed the color of the grass on Athos. He ran his hands across it, in an almost reverent gesture that only confirmed that she was doing the right thing.

"Teyla, this is incredible. I can't even imagine the work…Who was this made for?" He met her gaze, and her heart skipped another beat.

"A dear friend gave this to me. I have no need for it anymore, and you told me your grandmother had eyes the color of the mountains. This will suit her well, I believe," she said, her voice soft with memories. Cam stood up abruptly and handed it back to her.

"She'd loved it, but I can't…I can't take this, Teyla. I know her, she will be just as happy with a gift card to Target and someone cooking her dinner." Teyla moved to stand in front of him, her toes touching his, her hands placed on his arms. She raised herself until she could brush her lips across his; his breath huffed out between his lips before he pressed them firmer onto hers. One of his hands moved to cup her neck, the other slipping around her waist to draw her closer. The kiss deepened and intensified, leaving them both breathless. They broke it off and stood there, foreheads touching, breaths mingling between them.

"The cloak was given to me in love, and I think she would appreciate and understand, Cam. You said she was feeling the cold in her bones, this will help." She stepped back so she could see more of his face and slightly squeezed his waist. "You are aware I can make you?"

A laugh shook his body, and she could feel the tremors as he drew her closer to him. "Yes, Ma'am." He leaned forward to kiss her again, hands working their way under her shirt. She slipped her hands off his waist to grasp his rear and squeeze. He chuckled against her lips, probably remembering their conversation from the morning. Teyla walked him backwards until his knees hit her bed, and he fell back with an arm wrapped around her waist to bring her with him.

She felt his muscles tense up as they hit the bed, she briskly rubbed his side to bring feeling back into them and he shimmied away when she hit a spot that made him squirm. So she did it again. The laughter continued as she moved to straddle his waist and pinned his arms to her bed. She looked down at Cam and asked, "Do you think your grandmother would have any words of wisdom now?"

He looked incredulous then shuddered, "Teyla, I love her to death, but this is not the time I want to be thinking about the woman." She shifted her hips and pressed down, drawing a groan out of him. He rubbed his thumbs up her thighs in retaliation, but conceded to her question, "She'd tell me to shut up and do what the pretty lady says."

So he did.


End file.
